3rd Sunday of Lent

My dear brothers and sisters, today, the third Sunday of Lent, we are presented with two scenes of thirst in the desert of human longing; while in the second reading St Paul laid bare our justification through faith.

In the first scene of THIRST, we saw a people freshly freed from slavery yet already quarreling with God and Moses: "Why did you bring us up out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and our livestock with thirst?" (Exodus 17:3). They questioned: "Is the Lord in our midst or not?" And yet, from the struck rock at Horeb flows water enough for all, a miracle of mercy amid murmuring.

Then, here comes the second THIRST  after many centuries, a thirsty soul at another well: a Samaritan woman, coming at noon to avoid the eyes of her townsfolk, carrying the weight of five husbands and a life that has left her parched. Jesus, weary from the journey, sits there and asks for a drink. Was Jesus really thirsty? No, He was not there to  quench His physical thirst, but to awaken hers to something deeper and spiritual.

THE TWO THIRST SCENES IN OUR LIVES AS CHRISTIANS

These two stories, are not accidents of the lectionary. They are God's way of speaking to our hearts this Third Sunday of Lent. Yes! like those Israelites we can be! In our own deserts; perhaps in the desert of our own loneliness, of failure, of addiction, of bitterness, we grumble inwardly by whispering: "Why this suffering? Why doesn't God provide?" we often test Him with our doubts, our impatience, doubts, fears and our secret rebellions. 

On the other side of thirst (the Samaritan woman), we are also like the Samaritan woman we are too! We come to the WELLS of this world, perharps, the well pleasure, power, possessions, approval, and endless scrolling to draw satisfaction, only to find the bucket empty and bitter. Five husbands, or five vices, or five excuses; the number matters less than the pattern: we keep returning to what fails us, afraid to admit our deeper thirst. You and I? We too have our "husbands", our addictions, our grudges, our secret vanities, our fears that we hug close like lovers in the dark. We tell ourselves, "Just one more time, and i will be happy." But the bucket comes up dry even as we keep drawing from the well that seem to be clean.  

But see the tenderness of Christ! He does not strike the rock in anger as Moses did under pressure; He offers us great chance of drinking from the spring of living water. He does not turn away in disgust. He does not lecture her on her sins as a stern judge might. No, He reveals Himself gently, layer by layer, until her eyes are opened: "I who speak to you am He, the Messiah." In that moment, the woman at the well becomes an Apostle to her own people:  "Come see a man who told me everything I ever did!" From shame to apostle in the space of one conversation. Why? Because she met Love Himself at the well, and Love did not condemn; Love invited her to drink deeply and live.

I must say my dear brothers and sisters, that this, is the heart of Lent. Not a season of grim self-denial for its own sake, but a time when Christ sits beside us at our own WELL, the wells we have dug in the secret chamber of our hearts, the wells that have failed us constantly as we journey through life.  Lent, therefore is God's way of saying: Stop settling for the muddy water of sin. Come to Me. Let Me wash away what stains you. Let Me fill you with something that springs up to eternal life.

HOW PRACTICAL IS THIS WELL FOR US CHRISTIANS?

We know where our well is situated, Yes we do. It is therefore time for us to examine our own well. What are you drawing from that well day by day? Is it the fleeting waters of anger that you sip when someone wrongs you? The stagnant pool of envy as you scroll through the lives of others? The poisoned stream of lust or greed that promises joy but delivers only chains? 

This season of Lent is the time to let Christ point out those empty wells, not to shame you, but to heal you. Then, in the quiet of your prayer each day, sit with Him as the woman sat close to him today. No need for fancy words. Just say, "Lord, you know my thirst. Give me your living water." Fast not merely from food, but from whatever feeds your false loves; perhaps from gossip, from unnecessary screen time, from nursing old hurts. Give alms, not just money, but time and kindness to those who thirst around you: the lonely, the forgotten, the one who has "five husbands" of their own despair.

Christ has come to your well. He is thirsty for your soul more than you are thirsty for Him. Will you give Him a drink? your honest heart, your contrite spirit? Will you drink from Him and never thirst again?

Let us resolve, then, in these remaining days of Lent, to leave our empty buckets behind and run, like that Samaritan woman, and above all sip from the spring of living water welling up to eternal life.

Happy Sunday and be sure of my Prayers.

Fr. Emmanuel Igwe, HFFBY Prays for you